


Liquid Courage

by edgy_fluffball



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Grantaire is insecure, Ice Skating, M/M, Mulled wine, Pre-Holiday Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgy_fluffball/pseuds/edgy_fluffball
Summary: Grantaire watches his friends ice skate at a Les Amis meeting with a twist.Based on that Sam Edwards Instagram post.





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!  
> I hope the holidays treat you kindly!

It was always Courfeyrac who came up with stupid ideas like offensive posters for protests, wet t-shirt contests and water bomb throwing for charity and dinner in weird clubs and restaurants. By all means and reason, it should have been Courfeyrac who proposed a different venue for the last Les Amis-meeting of the year. He should have been the one to suggest it with gleaming eyes, rosy cheeks and a madman’s determination. Instead, it had been Enjolras and most of his friends, easy to excite, had approved of his suggestion. No other reason brought Grantaire even close to an ice rink. His friends went together and he had a reputation as the resident sceptic, something he intended to uphold. He had found a place at the edge of the rink, a pair of skates in his hands that Jehan had borrowed for him. They were all on the ice already, gliding and floating along with the grace of a bunch of elves or snowflakes, it looked so easy. Bahorel and Feuilly skated hand in hand after both had overcome their initial doubts about the whole undertaking. Combeferre and Joly moved carefully, the only ones remembering the potential injuries they could sustain but even their faces were distorted by wide grins. Their warnings were wasted on Courfeyrac, Musichetta and Bousset, of course. All three seemed to compete for the weirdest injury story to tell. The speed, at which they slammed into the sides every few minutes, made Grantaire question his and their sanity. Marius was the only one still clinging to the boards with Cosette by his side who taught him how to move with the patience of a saint. She had offered to teach him as well but Grantaire had declined, pointing out his weight and the impossibility of Cosette staying upright if he fell. She had accepted his reasoning without another push. Marius seemed enough to keep her busy.

Jehan raced past Grantaire, leaving nothing but an icy breeze and a harsh edge in the ice where they had pushed themselves into a jump. Grantaire shook his head. Jehan had competed in a few figure skating contests, stopping when they lost interest in the constant training. They still looked like they were dancing. No one could follow them on the ice. No one could move as fluent and easy as they did.

No one but Enjolras. Grantaire had laughed at Enjolras suggesting the ice rink at first. He had not expected his friend to rush to put on his skates, all but sprint towards the rink and setoff like a rocket. Grantaire had just about managed to close his mouth again, a long time after Enjolras had completed his first set of pirouettes.

What little fun he had expected to have from seeing Enjolras try and skate had disappeared. Grantaire had felt the taste of anticipation turn sour in his mouth. He opted to do the one thing he could do at the ice rink without compromising his health mounted on sharp skids. He turned to the small stall next to the entrance and ordered mulled wine.

He was on his third cup, warming his fingers against the Styrofoam, when skids scratched the icy surface and Enjolras came to a halt in front of him.

‘I’m not permitting you to stand around on your own all the time,’ his cheeks were flushed, a few unruly curls stuck to his sweaty forehead under his beanie and snowflakes decorated his head and shoulders, ‘look, even Ferre and Joly got over their reservations.’

He was right, Grantaire knew that. It seemed like all of his friends had vowed to make it harder for him to come up with a good reason for not joining them.

‘I’m drunk,’ he blurted out instead, nodding at the cup in his thankfully warm fingers.

Enjolras grinned. It made Grantaire feel as if he had lost the ground underneath his feet. Enjolras never looked happy when he drank but got cross and scolded him for toying with his health until Grantaire had lost any interest in his drink.

‘Good,’ Enjolras grabbed his wrist, ‘you won’t worry, then. Alcohol is supposed to make you courageous, after all.’

Grantaire felt ready to de-root trees, strong enough to fight an army and steadfast in his stance. It had got more to do with Enjolras’ fingers wrapped around his arm, not so much with the mulled wine induced courage. He had to admit to himself that he was not very likely to tell Enjolras about the misconception of what made him brave enough to face a potentially dangerous situation.

‘What, you are going to teach me how to teach then?’

‘Yeah, I can do it well enough, it shouldn’t be an issue, ‘Enjolras beamed at him, cheeks reddening even more, ‘come on, I don’t even expect you to do pirouettes and jumps.’

‘I didn’t even know you could do stuff like that,’ Grantaire crossed his arms over his chest, ‘do you keep more secrets from us?’

‘Everybody else knew.’

Enjolras started to lean into the pull he put on Grantaire’s arm, managing to move him by about one step closer to the rink.

‘Stop digging your heels in,’ he told him, ‘I will still get you to join me. Where are the skates Jehan borrowed for you?’

They were taken from him, Enjolras allowed his gaze to wander down Grantaire’s legs. He shook his head and nodded to one of the small benches put up around the rink, ‘Sit down and put them on. I am going to teach you how to skate, and if it is the last thing I do.’

‘I should warn you, I had three cups of mulled wine. My motoric skills might be even worse than usual.’

‘Don’t start again,’ Enjolras manhandled him onto the bench and knelt down in front of him, fingers tugging at Grantaire’s shoes to pull them off before fastening the ties and buckles of the ice skates.

Grantaire blushed at the sight as his brain supplied other instances at which Enjolras could kneel in front of him. He tried desperately to shove them to the back of his head but the alcohol took over for a moment and he had to tilt back his head to avoid catching Enjolras’ eye by accident. It took him all remaining resolve not to moan softly at the thought.

‘Come on now, you are ready,’ Enjolras went as far as holding a hand out for him to take.

‘You are mad for doing this,’ Grantaire muttered under his breath and shook his head, ‘I’m going to fall and I will drag you down with me. You’re going to get hurt and it’s going to be my fault!’

Enjolras laughed in response, throwing his head back, ‘I would never have pegged you for a coward.’

There was nothing cruel about his words, nothing but a giggle that made Grantaire’s hair stand on end.

He felt himself being dragged towards the rink, Enjolras’ arm around his wrist was warm and reassuring but his brain still dreaded the now inevitable moment of setting both feet on ice and hoping, just hoping he would not fall straight away.

‘Ready?’

Before he could answer, before he had even managed to look up at him, the next step had him leave the solid ground of rubber anti-slip mats and set his foot on ice. Enjolras’ grip on his wrist got tighter, a promise, unspoken as they moved along the boards, close enough that Grantaire could have touched them if he wanted to.

‘Hey, R, look what I can do,’ Marius had spotted them and waved at him, losing his balance in the process. A second later, he looked up at Cosette who seemed to struggle with containing the laughter that seemed to bubble out of her closed mouth.

‘Impressive,’ he stared down at his feet in the skates, carefully putting one forward.

Enjolras kept his hold of his arm and pulled him slightly forward, making him glide over the ice for a few seconds, ‘Very good, next step. You glide, to push yourself into the next step, you glide. It’s easy as that.’

Grantaire shot him an unimpressed look, ‘If you are prepared to catch me.’

‘Always.’

He was not sure whether he had heard correctly, opened his mouth to respond – and lost his balance. A moment later, he was on the same level as Marius who waved at him excitedly at him.

‘How’s your butt?’ Jehan flew past, one leg raised over their head, ‘looked a little bumpy.’

Enjolras helped him up again, smiling an apology. Before Grantaire could complain about his cold, wet and aching bottom, he was swept away again as Enjolras moved into the next step.

‘So much for catching me,’ he muttered, frowning at his own clumsiness, ‘this was a bad idea.’

‘You are thinking too much,’ Enjolras shrugged, ‘try not to look at your feet for every single movement, you are going to worry yourself into tripping.’

‘Good advice, what do you want me to do?’ Grantaire felt his knees wobble and grasped Enjolras’ arm with his second hand.

‘How about looking at me?’ Enjolras smiled softly, ‘If you trust me enough to lead you, that is. The other option would be my hat over your eyes.’

Grantaire shook his head, ‘I trust you without you blindfolding me.’

Enjolras loosened his hand around his arm with a beaming look that made Grantaire shudder, ‘Well then, we are off again.’

He stayed true to his promise, leading Grantaire forwards, carefully avoiding their friends and uneven patches of ice. Whenever Grantaire wobbled, he stopped and put his arms up and around him, keeping him upright. The pressure he applied went straight into Grantaire’s spine, warming him up bonedeep.

Enjolras seemed to enjoy himself, judging by the way his face lit up as he led both of them around the rink. The small wrinkles around his eyes deepened, his cheeks were stretched under the wide grin he wore, warm and soft like one of the scarves Jehan knitted for them. Grantaire allowed himself to study every inch of Enjolras’ face as he moved slowly past the boards and some of their friends. Jehan and Courfeyrac cheered whenever they overtook them, round after round but they kept their distance. Grantaire thanked them silently for their consideration, having them brush past him at high speed would only have distracted him. Not that anything would have distracted him easily, not when he was staring at Enjolras like he were to vanish if he took his eyes off him.

‘You are doing well,’ he was ripped out of his study of the different blue tones in Enjolras’ eyes by a firm squeeze of his hand, ‘you should get some kind of reward.’

Grantaire blinked in surprise. Enjolras smiled at him, a genuine, warm smile on his lips that lit up his eyes even more. He allowed himself to smile back, a cautious warp of his focused face.

‘Now you’ve lost it entirely,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘a reward?’

‘I’m serious,’ Enjolras made sure to steer them around the pile made up of Musichetta, Bousset and Joly who had left Combeferre behind at some point, ‘you’ve overcome your reservations and you are doing a great job at something new. I haven’t seen you try out something new in ages.’

‘You do bring out the best in me, Apollo,’ the remark came out behind clenched teeth, ‘whether that is something to be examined by the whole world remains to be seen.’

‘What, even mulled wine couldn’t get you to try skating but I can persuade you?’

‘Alcohol is what keeps me standing upright, Apollo. You are what makes me forget that I shouldn’t be standing,’ Grantaire tore his gaze off Enjolras’ face for a moment. He felt like an open book under the mustering look he was subject to, ‘there isn’t much you can’t persuade me to do though.’

‘And if I was to insist you pick something as a reward? You did overcome something today, after all.’

Marius and Cosette slid past them, hands intertwined and smiling at each other. Combeferre chased Courfeyrac down the rink with a mischievous grin. Bousset, Musichetta and Joly had managed to detangle themselves and had joined hands as well. Bahorel had started to lift Feuilly into the air, enough to make Grantaire dizzy.

‘Would you like me to try that?’

‘What? Fuck, no,’ Grantaire gaped at him, panicking a little before he caught the glint in Enjolras’ eyes, ‘You little –‘

‘Tell me what you would like as a reward, then.’

‘Another mulled wine, liquid courage, if you will before I answer that question.’

‘Sounds dubious,’ Enjolras laughed.

The sound made Grantaire tingle, he tried to withdraw his hand from the grasp keeping him close but Enjolras shook his head, ‘Don’t run off now, we are in the middle of the rink.’

Grantaire realised that he would not make it to the sides without several slips and falls.

‘Bastard,’ he coughed out, to Enjolras’ amusement, ‘you got me into a vulnerable position on purpose?’

‘I just want to give you something. When I suggested the ice rink you seemed not impressed by the idea. You showed up, however, and I even got you to try skating with me! I hoped you might turn up but I wasn’t sure. I just thought it might be nice, a change of scenery as opposed to the _Musain_ every time, to get you out of that dark corner you usually occupy.’

‘There is a reason behind occupying that corner, you know?’

‘And which reason would that be?’

‘The best view, for example.’

‘What, seeing me spit arguments into the room?’

He did not know what to respond. He could not tell him how he had hit the nail right on the head but he also could not deny it entirely. Enjolras frowned at him and Grantaire realised that he had been quiet for quite some time.

‘It is exactly that view, am I not right?’ he stopped both of them, ‘Grantaire, please tell me I am right.’

Something pleading had taken over his look as he searched his face intently. Grantaire swallowed dryly, keeping his eyes trained on Enjolras’ face.

Then, he nodded.

‘Your reward then,’ Enjolras leaned in, ‘you could get more of these as well.’

He pressed his lips to Grantaire’s, pushing into his personal space even more. His lips were cold and yet they burned his. Grantaire gasped into the kiss when a hot tongue licked into his mouth only to retreat and leave him hanging with the remains of a familiar taste, a second later. Enjolras smirked at him as he skated away backwards, towards the gate.

Grantaire did the first thing that came into his mind; he followed him. He only realised that he skated on his own when he reached the gate as well, accompanied by the cheers from Courfeyrac and Jehan. Enjolras waited for him, arms open to catch him as he stumbled off the ice.

‘There you go. Enough of a reward?’

Grantaire nodded, still looking for the right words. The decision was taken from him when Enjolras intertwined their fingers with a smile and stepped closer to him. Combeferre skated past them.

‘Liquid courage does work after all!’

‘I only had a few cups,’ Grantaire yelled after him, cheeks turning hot and red again.

‘He didn’t mean you,’ Enjolras leaned into him a little, ‘I had to drink some mulled wine before we came here, too.’

‘Shut up,’ Grantaire blushed deeper, ‘you will have to go back onto the ice and do a few pirouettes and jumps, I need to process what just happened.’

‘Will you watch?’ Enjolras’ eyes were aflame with something Grantaire was tempted to call passion.

‘Sure,’ it came out more breathless than he had hoped but seemed enough.

Enjolras leaned in again and gave him a peck on the lips, lingering a little as close to Grantaire as possible. Then, he turned away and returned onto the icy surface, launching himself into a set of twirls and spins.

Grantaire’s eyes did not leave him for second.


End file.
